Page 59 of Sixty Days Of Summer

Ace

As she explodes in my mouth, I can't help but revel in the power I have over her—just with my tongue. I stand up, and before she can even catch her breath, I lean forward and slam my lips against hers. I want her to taste herself, to savor just how fucking amazing she is. The moment I slip my tongue past her lips, she melts against me. Goddamn, this girl is quicksand, and I know I'm sinking deeper under her spell.

I pull back, desperate to feel my cock buried deep inside her, craving the sensation of her tight walls wrapping around me, hungry for the sound of her moans. I yank off my shirt, kick off my shoes and socks, and quickly shed my jeans. My hardcock stands at attention, ready for the excitement that’s about to unfold. I grab a condom from my pocket and toss my jeans aside. Lifting it to my teeth, I rip the edge of the packet open, and as I slide it on, I can’t help but notice Scarlet’s eyes glued to my cock, filled with need.

I grab her legs and yank her to the edge of the bed, her thighs spread wide, that glistening pussy on full display. I can’t help but moan at the sight of her, ready and waiting for me. Fuck, I need to be in there. Lining up the head of my cock at her entrance, I push in slowly, feeling her stretch around me, the heat and tightness almost overwhelming. "Fuck me, you feel so fucking good," I growl, savoring the sight of my cock disappearing inside her.

When I'm all the way in, I pause, relishing the heat and the way she wraps around me, holding me like a damn vice. It's a rush, knowing I could easily lose control and fuck her senseless like I usually do. But with her, it’s a whole different ball game. I know sometimes she craves that rough edge, wanting me to take her hard, but other times, she likes to slow it down, teasing the hell out of me.

My hand slides up around her throat, fingers splayed, gentle but possessive as I start to fuck her. A helpless whimper escapes her lips, and that sound drives me wild.

“Oh God,” she moans, her body responding to me like a live wire. I pinch her nipple, loving the way she reacts, the way she tells me exactly what she’s enjoying. The louder she gets, the better. None of that fake-ass shit—she’s raw and real, and I can feel every note of pleasure that slips from her lips.

A low growl escapes me as I cup her tits, my tongue swirling over her hardened nipple, loving the way she shudders from my touch. Her breathing quickens as I tease her with a playful bite. My hands slide down to grip her hips, holding her tight as I drive my cock deep inside her, relentlessly, claiming her with everythrust. She clutches the sheets, her knuckles going white as she surrenders completely, her body arching, responding to every grind, every filthy, deep stroke that leaves her trembling under me.

Her gaze locks onto mine, pure pleasure lighting up her face as she bites down on that bottom lip, trying to hold back the screams I want to pull from her. I want to hear every moan, every desperate cry as she loses herself to the way I’m fucking her, pushing her to the edge and driving her insane. I pause, letting her teeter there, so close, holding her just on the brink, her body begging for release.

She meets my eyes with that defiant stare, and I can't help the grin tugging at my lips. I lean down, letting my tongue trace over the soft skin between her tits, teasing her just enough to leave her squirming. “I want to fucking hear you,” I growl against her skin, my voice thick, dripping with need. “So be a good girl, or I’m not going to give you what you want.”

Then I fuck her, feeding off her moans—just how I like it. My hands tighten on her hips, hard enough to leave her aching, to remind her of this for days. The way I'm fucking her—it's fierce, relentless, like it’s the only thing that keeps me grounded, like she's the only thing I need to hold onto. Her sounds, her scent, her body—all of it consumes me, like a drug I can't stop chasing. A drug I’ve willingly chosen, and fuck, I don't know how to stop or even know if I want to.

"Oh god," she gasps, and I can feel it—the pressure coiling tight inside me, the edge so fucking close. The way she's moaning and writhing beneath me, I know she's right there with me, ready to crash. I pick up the pace, skin slapping together in a wild, desperate rhythm. Leaning forward, I crush my lips into hers, the kiss brutal—tongue and teeth, raw, consuming.

"Fuck," I growl, my hips hammering into hers, each movement a fierce balance of punishment and reward. She digsher nails into my ass, trying to pull me deeper with every savage thrust, her body trembling beneath me. My mouth grazes her throat, and the moan she releases vibrates against my lips, her entire body shuddering in response. I pull out, then slam back into her with everything I’ve got, driving us both to the edge of oblivion.

Then it hits—hard. A guttural groan tears from deep within me as I shatter, my release filling her. My mouth against hers is desperate and hungry. Heat pulses as I lose myself completely, still grinding into her, riding out the last wild surges of pleasure. We’re a mess, bodies slick and spent, but fuck, the need for her still simmers beneath the surface. I want to drown in her, to claim her completely until there’s nothing left but us.

Breathless and panting, our bodies still tangled as the aftershocks ripple through us. I lie there, staring at her. Something about the way she looks back at me... fuck, it’s messing with my head. There's something in her eyes I don’t quite understand. It’s not just lust or satisfaction—it’s deeper, something more, something I can’t put my finger on.

I shake the feeling off, pushing it down before it can get a grip on me. This isn’t supposed to mean anything. It can’t.

I get up and pull off the condom, tossing it into the trash without a second thought. But as I return to the bed, a weight settles in my chest. It clings to me like a shadow, something I can’t quite name—something I don’t want to feel. Attachment. No matter how hard I try to brush it off, it lingers, gnawing at the edges of my mind.

Sliding under the sheets, I pull her towards me, my arm draped over her waist. It’s a habit now. The need to touch her, to feel her close, and it’s starting to feel like something I don’t know how to fight. My mind is at war with my body, telling me I should get the fuck out, keep my distance, but instead, I stay right where I am.

Fuck, the whole band’s been giving me the silent treatment. Even Xander—he tore into me the second he found out. Said this shit would drive a wedge between us all, and, of course, he was right. I haven’t said a word to anyone since. Just kept my distance. We’ve had bad blowouts before, some brutal ones, but we’ve always come back from it. This time, though? It feels different. Feels like something’s broken beyond repair.

Theo? That bastard hasn’t let up. He doesn’t even need to say anything, just sits there with that fucking glare like he’s waiting for me to screw up again. Like he’s counting down to the moment he can rip into me. I don’t know if we can come back from this.

What hit me the hardest was the silent treatment from Scarlet, as she ignored my texts and calls. I can’t wrap my head around why that hurt so much. Why the hell is she the only thing occupying my thoughts lately? Last night, not a single groupie caught my eye—I didn’t want any of them. All I craved was her. And when she killed it on that stage, damn, I was bursting with pride. She owned that moment, as if she had been born to do that.

We should all be reveling in our success under the new label, riding the high together. But instead, this mess I created is wedged between us, like a wall I can’t tear down.

And then, throw my mother into the mix, and it’s an even bigger fuck-up. Kit told me yesterday that the media's been hounding her, relentlessly trying to get my side of the story. But there’s no way in hell I’m doing that. No way I can relive all that shit. There’s no way in hell the world needs to hear all the shit I went through. Meanwhile, she's out there selling her story like it's the damn gospel. And now it’s everywhere—every feed I scroll through on my phone, like a constant reminder.

Scarlet shifts beside me, resting her chin on my chest, staring up at me with that smile on her face. And fuck, seeingher like this does something to me. Makes me feel good, like I’m the reason she's smiling like that. I lift my hand and tuck her hair behind her ear, wanting to memorize every detail of this moment.

"You’re beautiful, you know," I say, and I can’t believe those words came out of my mouth. It’s not something I’ve ever said to anyone before, but with Scarlet, I’m doing shit I never thought I’d do. She has this way of getting in, pulling my dark shit to the surface, and somehow making it okay. It’s like with her, I don’t need to hide who I am. And that shit fucking terrifies me.

Now that the guys know about Scarlet and me, I couldn’t give a shit if they find out what we just did. They don’t understand—this feels different from the chicks I’ve fucked before. With Scarlet, I can actually talk about shit, and she won’t judge me for it. She makes me feel safe enough to let my guard down. I want to hold on to this feeling, but part of me is screaming to pull back before I end up revealing too much.

And the sex? Well… Fuck, that's off the charts too, in a way that's hard to put into words. It makes me want to keep coming back for more, which is another thing messing with my head. Normally, I'm the type to bail right after I’ve fucked a chick—no strings attached. It’s always been that way, even back when I was just a horny teenager looking for the next thrill. But lying here beside her, I don’t feel that usual itch to get up and disappear. So, I just stare at her, feeling something that’s both foreign and fucking weird, but there’s this warm, comforting vibe rolling through me.

“What are you thinking about?” she asks.

I can’t help but smile at her question. “Just thinking about what happened the last time we were like this,” I say.

“Well, didn’t that turn into a shitshow,” she says, her voice dripping with amusement. “I’m just waiting for Theo to comepounding on the door.” She laughs, and that sound hits me in a way I don’t expect. I smile.

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